


a first time for everything

by magumarashi



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27579470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: On returning to Ishgard from an alliance meeting, Aoife Asturmaux finds she's not quite ready to let her time with Aymeric end so soon. 'tis a fortune, then, that the Lord Commander is of a similar mind.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	a first time for everything

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this fic for uh... an embarrassing number of months and kept getting distracted by other ffxiv wips.... idk if i'll get around to writing the other half of it but i figured i'll let yall have this for now lmao
> 
> For context, my WoL is a Viera named Aoife Asturmaux. (Her first name is pronounced "Eefa".) I put her backstory on [the Lodestone](https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/27819823/) so I won't repeat it here; I don't think any of it is relevant for this one but I like linking her backstory anyway. 
> 
> This takes place somewhere between 3.3 and 3.5 and follows on from my [previous wolaymeric fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25417024/chapters/61640437), but doesn't make any explicit references to it. I should probably also mention that Aoife previously had a (brief) romantic relationship with Haurchefant.

Night had already fallen by the time the Speaker of the House of Lords and his escort returned to Ishgard. 

Alliance leadership had convened earlier in the day for one of their regular meetings. Though Ser Aymeric had come prepared to offer Ishgard’s assistance in anything his allies might require, this particular meeting had passed with little fanfare. He must have looked somewhat silly, then, after having asked the Warrior of Light herself to serve as his escort for the afternoon. Aymeric’s second-in-command had come down with an untimely cold, and while he bade her stay in the infirmary to rest, it would have been markedly unwise for someone of his station to make the journey to Ul’dah alone. Even knowing he could have requested anyone in Ishgard’s military to accompany him, the young lord decided (somewhat selfishly) to call on his dear friend instead. 

Aoife, for her part, would have agreed even if there hadn’t been a good reason for Lucia’s absence. She’d scarce had time to spend with Aymeric following their interrupted dinner—there had been primals to subdue, rivals to contend with, and an uptick in clashes with the Garleans in Alliance territory. She knew that accompanying Aymeric to an Alliance meeting was unlikely to make for an exciting outing, but she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to spend time with him anyway. It had been all she could do to keep from inching closer to him during the meeting, subtly reaching out to twine his fingers with hers… 

Even now, as their boots crunched in the days-old snow blanketing Ishgard’s streets, she couldn’t help wanting to take his hand. She thought better of it, but that didn’t stop the thought from occupying her mind nonetheless. Just once she wanted to try holding hands with him like young lovers, strolling along without a care in the world… 

“Well, here we are. Aoife…?”

Aoife had been so wrapped up in her daydream that she’d barely noticed their journey’s progress. Aymeric had come to a stop outside the door to his family estate, signalling that their time together had come to an end.

“I should thank you,” said Aymeric, smiling. “There was little need to accompany me all the way back to my estate, but I do appreciate you taking the time to do so. I much enjoyed the chance to talk with you.”

Aoife nodded to him, returning his smile. 

“Of course,” she said. “And I hope you’ll forgive me for wanting to wring what little time I can from your busy schedule…”

Aymeric couldn’t help laughing, lightly.

“My dear, you need only ask, and I would gladly clear my schedule for you.”

“Oh, please,” Aoife snorted. “You don’t have to go so far for my sake.”

“I do mean that, though,” said Aymeric, quietly. “In any case—loath as I am to part here, I suppose I shouldn’t keep you any longer. Thank you again for agreeing to escort me today, Aoife. I’ve never felt safer than with your careful guard at my back.”

“Mm. You’re most welcome, Aymeric.” Aoife nodded to him again, warmly. “Call on me anytime.”

Aymeric turned toward the house, but before he could take a step Aoife added:

“Not going to kiss me goodbye, then?”

“Kiss you—?!” Aymeric whirled back around, flushing brightly, but was quick to recover. “Ah, er, no—not here, anyway.” He took a cautious look up and down the street. “Much as I would like to oblige, I worry it would set people talking if we were seen. Ishgard does love a scandal, after all…”

“I guess you’re right…” Aoife’s ears drooped a little. It had been worth the shot, if a long one, but she knew Aymeric had the right of it. She could already imagine the gossip: the woman who slew the archbishop and ended the war, seen sharing an intimate moment with the lord rumored to be the archbishop’s bastard son, himself now Ishgard’s leader… It was easy to see how someone unfamiliar with the details might come to unfortunate conclusions about the nature of their partnership.

“But, ah…” Aymeric’s voice drew her from her thoughts. He motioned to the guard stationed out front, who set about unlocking the door. Aoife’s ears perked up at the sound of the key turning in the latch. “Why don’t we… go somewhere we might do so privately? If you can spare a few minutes, that is…”

Aoife brightened immediately.

“Well twist my arm, why don’t you!”

Aymeric laughed, then gave a meaning nod toward the door. The guard pulled the door open to admit them, and Aoife eagerly followed the Elezen lord inside.

The hall beyond was dark and frigid; the stone houses of Ishgard had not been built to insulate against its present chill. A few servants scrambled to light lamps, while a pair of Hyuran squires approached to help remove their lord’s armor. Amid the clicking of belts and clasps, Aymeric’s personal butler approached with a candle in hand.

“You’ve returned, my lord,” he said, smiling. “And I see you’ve brought a guest with you this evening.”

“I have.” Aymeric nodded to him, then shrugged as his servants took the pauldrons off his shoulders. “Is there a fire burning in the parlor hearth?”

“Yes, though it may need to be stoked—it was lit some time ago.”

“Excellent. Then, ah—I’d like to request a bit of privacy, if you don’t mind.”

“Yes _ser,”_ said the butler, glancing over to Aoife and nodding to her knowingly. “I’ll inform the others that you are not to be disturbed.”

“Thank you, as always.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Once Aymeric had been relieved of his armor and robes, he took a more casual-looking coat from one of his servants and motioned for Aoife to follow him. The butler led the way to a door off the main hall, pulling it open so that his master and guest could pass through and shutting it behind them once they’d both crossed the threshold.

For the first time—perhaps in the entire time they’d known each other—Aoife and Aymeric found themselves totally alone. 

Aoife had never seen the Borel estate’s sitting room before. It was furnished much the same as the dining room had been: regal blue wallpaper, dark wooden chairs with plush seats, and a sofa placed invitingly close to the hearth. True to the butler’s word, the fire had dimmed somewhat from lack of care—but once Aymeric added another log and gave it a few prods with the poker, it slowly rose back to life. Aoife noticed a bookshelf in one corner that seemed to house mostly volumes of scripture, but on a second look she could see that accompanying them were books on law, politics, and policy.

“My parents’ collection,” Aymeric said, noting Aoife’s eyes on the books. “Somewhat dry reading, unfortunately.”

She nodded to him. 

“Would you…” Aymeric started to say something, but then grimaced. “Ah, forgive me; I should have had my staff bring us something to drink before asking for privacy. Er, Aoife, would you like me to fetch someth—?”

Aoife, however, decided she’d had enough of formality. She strode forward and took his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his before he could get another word out.

“Mm…!”

Aoife lingered there for a little while before pulling back, a somewhat bashful smile on her lips. Aymeric met her gaze, and the adoration in his eyes almost made her flush.

“Sorry…” she said quietly. “Been holding that back for a while.” 

“It’s quite alright,” said Aymeric, gently shaking his head. “I, er… I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit that was my first time…”

“No way,” said Aoife, trying not to laugh.

“It's true. My career track hasn’t exactly left much time for… such endeavors.”

He was red around the ears now, glancing away furtively—he didn’t quite seem certain where to put his eyes. Aoife couldn’t help smiling: the usual Aymeric exuded confidence in all he did, so to see him flushing like a schoolboy was an unparalleled delight.

“You don't have to be embarrassed,” said Aoife quietly. “We'll just have to… make up for lost time.”

“Ah.” Aymeric's flush deepened—gods, why was he so _cute?!_ If Aoife had known it would be this easy to set him off, she would have started flirting with him far sooner. “You seem to have some experience yourself, then,” he managed to add. 

“Mm,” Aoife hummed in the affirmative as she went in for another pass. This time his lips met hers gently, tentatively. His inexperience was showing—or was he just nervous? She pulled back, frowning a little. “Am I going too fast? I can take it more slowly if you want…” 

“No, no, this is…” Aymeric shook his head. “Aoife, I cannot tell you how long I have yearned for a moment alone with you to do exactly this. If you would have me, then…”

He let the rest trail off, and Aoife answered him by curling her fingers into his hair and pulling him into a slow, tender kiss.

It had been a long time since she had last been intimate with someone—not since the Vault, where she’d lost the first person she’d ever been this close to. Feeling the warmth of Aymeric’s skin on hers, she realized she’d been longing for this kind of intimacy for a while now. To kindle that kind of connection with someone… the desire had nagged at her, tugging at her heart each time she looked at him. There were nights she’d ached from wanting, though whether from grief or longing she couldn’t say. Perhaps it had been some of both in equal measure.

It was a difficult thought to accept: wanting to begin anew. Wanting to share with someone else what she’d had with Haurchefant—after all, no one could possibly be what he had been to her. Part of her feared that her new love would come to replace what she felt for him, and she couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting how he made her feel. And yet….

This time it was Aymeric who pulled back; evidently he’d been holding his breath, and he needed a minute to catch it again. Aoife watched him, gauging how he fared while trying not to think about the sound of his breathing—but with her Viera hearing, he might as well have been panting in her ear.

“Aymeric…” said Aoife quietly, and he jumped at the sound of his own name in her voice. “Aymeric…”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, touching her forehead to his. He returned her embrace, holding her close to him and breathing in slowly—as though he wanted to commit her scent to memory, so that whenever they were alone together he would recall his elation the moment he held her for the first time. 

“Aoife…” he answered her, after a time.

He couldn’t be what Haurchefant was—of course he couldn’t—but he didn’t need to be. His love for her was beautiful in its own right. She could feel it in the ways he went out of his way for her; not always so grandiose as the full-course meal they’d shared together, but heartfelt all the same. She could feel it each time she’d catch him gazing at her reverently when he didn’t think she was looking. She could feel it when he asked about her adventures, and listened, rapt, as she recounted the things she’d seen and done. How the look in his eyes seemed to change when he was talking to her, his manner more relaxed… 

Thinking about it, she’d come to admire him a good deal in their time together—and not just due to his undeniably fine countenance (he was, for the record, the most objectively beautiful Elezen she had ever laid eyes on. Certain features were considered attractive in Ishgardian men, and Aymeric had been blessed with all of them). But to mention his appearance alone would be to say nothing of the traits had so captivated her, even as long ago as their first meeting in the Intercessory at Camp Dragonhead. He had the kind of confidence that naturally drew others to him, and the determination to push forward against all odds. He was deeply committed to his role as Lord Commander, yet not so entrenched in his faith that he would blindly follow the orders of corrupt men. He’d had to claw his way to his position in a society where lineage was everything, yet didn’t seem too preoccupied with his own dubious pedigree. He had endured so much, and _still_ he held his head so high… 

_Ah, I really am in love with him, aren’t I…?_

She tilted her head, gently meeting his lips with hers. He leaned into her kiss eagerly, letting out a wanting hum from somewhere deep in his throat. Aoife thought about surprising him with a bit of tongue, but decided against it in the end. There would be times for more adventurous exchanges, but for tonight, she wanted only to take her sweet time with him.

“Aoife…” Aymeric whispered as they parted. “Shall we… sit down?”

“Oh! Of course,” said Aoife, releasing him. “We never did get a chance to rest our legs after the walk back, did we…”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Aymeric released her, then went to sit on the sofa near the hearth. He patted the spot next to him invitingly—and of course, Aoife sat a good deal closer than he’d bargained for; close enough that their thighs touched to the knee. Evidently the gesture was not unwelcome: Aymeric looked back at her as though his nameday had come early. 

“Gods, you’re so _cute,”_ said Aoife.

“Cute...?”

“I said what I said.” 

Aoife reached out to brush his cheek with her hand, and Aymeric brought a hand up to cradle hers, pressing her palm to his skin and leaning into her touch. It was maddening, the feeling of his skin on hers—knowing that he wanted this just as much as she did. Aoife slipped her hand downward, running a finger along his jawline and turning his gaze back to her. He met her eyes eagerly, and she wondered how much more he would let her get away with. 

_The way he looks at me… It’s like he can hardly believe this is real. I can scarce believe it either, and yet…!_

Aoife leaned forward, pulling him closer as she did so. Their lips met with a bit more force than before, and Aymeric had to steady himself against the sofa. Aoife took his head in her hands once more, half to help steady him, and half a selfish bid to keep him right where she wanted him. Aymeric, of course, was only too happy to oblige her—at least until he had to stop to catch his breath again.

“You alright?” Aoife asked, quietly. “Don’t forget to breathe, Aymeric.”

“I know, but…” he responded, gazing back at her with a weak smile. “It’s somewhat hard to remember, when you’re always taking my breath away.”

“Ah…!” Now it was Aoife’s turn to flush. _By the twelve…!!! How did he say that with a straight face???_ “You’re so…!”

“So wh—mm?!”

Aoife practically tackled him into the couch for another kiss, throwing any last scraps of restraint to the wind—she would have him know just how thoroughly he’d charmed her, appearances be damned. Aymeric yielded to her, willingly; content to let her pin him to the cushions and have her way. He reached up to pull her closer, and she settled on top of him without even an ilm of space between. The weight of her body on his was enough to set his mind whirling, though he had not the words for what it was he wanted. 

It was strange: now that they finally had a moment to themselves, it wasn’t enough. He wanted as much of her as he could get, as if his needs had only intensified now that he knew what it was he’d been missing all this time. Part of him did feel somewhat guilty about it: he truly _had_ meant to keep her for only a few minutes. And yet, he was loath to stop her—not now, when she was finally answering all his unspoken desires…! 

Alas, the chime of the grandfather clock against the far wall jerked both of them from their reverie. Aoife counted nine chimes before the clock fell silent again. 

_I didn’t think we’d returned to Ishgard so late,_ she reflected. _Have we really been at this for that long…?_

“The time seems to have gotten away from us,” Aymeric commented, smiling.

“Funny how that happens,” Aoife quipped back. She released him and sat back on the couch, giving him ample room to right himself. Aymeric sat up, glancing at the clock to confirm the time.

“Seeing as it’s grown so late…” he said, “Would you like to stay the night?”

For a moment Aoife could only stare at him— _Is he asking what I think he’s asking?_ Her heart raced with the possibility that a steamy night in the Lord Commander’s private chambers could be in her future. The honor of getting to see his unkempt face first thing upon waking, hair still tussed from the excitement of the night before… 

“Er,” said Aymeric, noticing her silence and assuming she was hesitant to accept his offer. “We have plenty of guest rooms you can use, if you’re concerned about that…”

“Oh,” Aoife responded, realizing what he’d meant. “So… you weren’t asking to tumble with me, then?”

“To tumb—oh! Oh my,” Aymeric’s face turned a brilliant shade of red. “Right, er. I’m sorry, I see now how what I said could have been misconstrued. N-not to say that I wouldn’t be open to such. Activities…. Ah, Fury take me…”

Aymeric covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“We don't have to if you don't feel ready,” said Aoife, trying to dispel some of the tension. “I want to go at a pace you feel comfortable with. But even if we don't get to tumbling or anything…. “ Aoife smiled bashfully, bringing a finger to her cheek. “I thought about how nice it might be to see your face next to mine in the morning, and I couldn’t help wanting to try sharing a bed…”

“Oh…!” Aymeric replied. “Yes, that—that does sound lovely.” 

Aoife’s smile widened into a grin.

“So you’ll do it…?”

Aymeric closed his eyes and took another deep breath before nodding, resolutely.

“I think I’d like to try,” he said. He opened his eyes, gazing at her with renewed confidence. “Well then, my dear. Shall we… retire to my chambers for the night?”

Aoife was impressed he’d managed to get through the request without so much as a stutter, considering she could hear his heart beating a malm a minute in his chest. She answered him with a warm nod.

“I think we shall, Ser Aymeric.”

Aymeric rose from the couch and straightened out his clothes somewhat before offering a hand to help her up. Aoife took it gladly, and kept a firm grip on it even after she’d stood up herself—she twined her fingers with his, signalling that he’d have to work for it if he intended to take his hand back. Aymeric, for his part, had no such thoughts in his mind. He’d spent so long yearning for the touch of her skin that he was loath to give it up even briefly, and it was heartening to know she felt the same.

Hand in hand—almost like young lovers without a care in the world—the two of them made their way toward the parlor door.

**Author's Note:**

> me, trying to find a way to end this that doesn't feel like a cliffhanger while also leaving it open to eventually continue: uhhhhhhhh
> 
> anyway, no promises, but eventually there might be more of this; for now, I hope you enjoyed what's here!


End file.
